onexone with chasing stars

[lokean]

all was golden when the day met the night.

[lokean]

Alfie is a happy-go-lucky 25 year old living in Washington Heights, New York. He was born in Chile which means he possesses a dual citizenship and came to New York as a baby. His mother died shortly after his third sibling, Andrey, was born. Unfortunately, his brothers - Andrey and James - passed away. His sister, Maritza, lives in Fayetteville, North Carolina, and Alfie is very close to her. Their father, Wyatt Valdez raised his son as he always has, despite the reservations that always exist between the father and son. The sole surviving Valdez boy knows who he is - who he was, too - and the mantle that he has to carry as a casualty of French trench warfare in 1944. He doesn't let it bother him - nobody asks about a soldier boy whose name never graced a history book, much less anyone's lips. He's stepped away from his position as a soldier and hasn't been military personnel since the 1940's. His career ended with WWII, after which he bounced around professions. Alfie works at a hole-in-the-wall cafe, and has yet to meet another member of what historians dub 'the back-at-it club' in this lifetime. He's kind and likes to paint and draw in his free time. His favorite drink is a chai latte with vanilla because it tastes like gingerbread, and his dog, a senior chihuahua named Senator, is his best friend.

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ＬＵＣＩＬＬＥ ❝ ｌｕｃｙ ❞ ＭＥＹＥＲＳ

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i. lucille avery mey
ers ii. lucy iii. twe
nty three years iv.
fashion designer
v. cisfemale - hete
rosexual vi. no curr
ent romance vii. d
ivorced parents an
d no siblings viii. w
avy brown hair, dar
k brown eyes - five
feet and five inches
ix. dedicated, clos
ed off, serious, col
d, secretive, ambit
ious, passionate, qu
iet, mature, gullible
theme song. stone
by jaymes young.

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at a glance, lucy is a quiet, dedicated girl, but first impr
essions can be deceiving. she is actually cold and closed of
f,her heart hardened from too much pain.she’s had her h
eart broken one too many times and she no longer plans o
n letting anyone hurt her anymore.she is serious and matu
re and knows when to speak & when to keep her mouth sh
ut,at least she usually does.lucille is an extremely passiona
te girl and sometimes that gets the best of her.usually,her
passion is put into her work and her hobbies,but sometim
es it takes control and she blurts out bold statements with
out thinking.the truth is,lucy is a hopeless romantic and is
often caught up in the idea of true love.she would never a
dmit this, of course, but she is gullible with other people a
nd forgives easily,thus why she tries to keep to herself.

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ｙｏｕ ｓｐｅｎｄ ｙｏｕｒ ｄａｙｓ ｌｏｏｋｉｎｇ ａｔ ｔｈｅ ＳＴＡＲＳ. . .
ｔｈｉｎｋｉｎｇ ｙｏｕｒ ｌｉｆｅ ｗｏｕｌｄ ｂｅ ｂｅｔｔｅｒ ｏｎ ＭＡＲＳ !!

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ｌｕｃｉｌｌｅ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

here

[paper planets]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ｌｕｃｉｌｌｅ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The morning arrived with the sun. The warm, golden rays peeked over the buildings and through the small spaces in between, making the city come alive with odd shapes of vibrant colour plastered on the buildings and reflecting vividly on the windows. The large city was mostly grey with bursts of colour popping up here and there: a colourful sign, a cozy café or the glowing neon signs that made the city light up like a huge firework when the sun fell below the distant horizon. Many people saw big cities as bleak and busy, with no moments of peace, but Lucy couldn’t disagree more. Big cities were filled to the brim with new opportunities and life. Of course, she had experienced living for centuries, but life, on the other hand, was different. In this city she was successful and she was herself. She had an apartment of her own, a big-time job and that, alone, was enough. Especially since women used to not be able to vote or do much of anything like work outside of their house. But, now she was succeeding and showing herself that she was capable of anything. Years ago, in another life, she wasn’t too sure she’d ever be able to do anything, but it seemed as if all of the suffragists during World War Two and even before and after that time had gotten what they wanted. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, but she hoped that someday everything would be equal.

Lucille woke up early in the morning when only a few cars drove down the streets and the sidewalks only had a few early birds wandering along. She walked slowly around her apartment, got dressed and made breakfast. This morning she had a plan, one that included going to her favourite café. She had a little bit of an in between period at the moment because she wasn’t working on any big projects, so she had some time to come up with new ideas and plans for upcoming events. The company she worked at had just finished with a big event, so, as they waited for someone else to approach them they needed new clothes to put out. The whole process of designing was one of Lucy’s favourite things to do, so she jumped on the chance to come up with some new sketches. As she got her things together to head out of her apartment, she packed up her sketchbook and pencils into a bag and walked out of the door. She locked the door behind her and walked down to the street, jingling the keys subconsciously in her hand as she’s walked along. Once out onto the street she shoved her keys into her bag and turned left.

The path that Lucy took was one she took nearly every morning unless she’s had somewhere else to be. She walked for about ten minutes until she came upon the popular café which was her version of paradise in this city. She always walked to the serene building instead of taking her car because she enjoyed the mornings. The slight chill in the air when she walked under the shadow of a towering building and then feeling the warmth of he sun when she walked through patches of the golden glow. It was calming, too, and walking was refreshing just as much as driving was.

The café that Lucy was headed to was well-known and sometimes even quite busy, but she didn’t mind. She found it beautiful and well put together even when it was filled with patrons. Plus, she knew the owners well and it was always nice to be around friendly people. But, it seemed as if her morning café time wouldn’t be as it usually was. When she approached the store she found that it was empty and the large windows that let her see into the spacious area showed her that there weren’t any lights on either. She walked to the door and found a sign that simply stated, “We’re closed, sorry for the inconvenience, there were some technical difficulties, but we should be open within a few days time.” Lucy raised a single eyebrow, the modern café seemed fine from the outside and she couldn’t guess what kind of ‘technical difficulties’ the business was facing. But, she couldn’t just stand there and think about it, so she took out her phone and looked for any cafés that were around the area that she could walk to. She wasn’t being too picky, all she needed was coffee and a quiet place to work. So, the first name she saw she went to. Following the directions on her phone she found that it was just down the street on the corner where the buildings began to size down and the street was filled on both sides with tiny little stores. The signs flooded the area, all competing for advertisement and profit. But, when she approached the café she found that it was more of the cozy and modest type. A little sign decorated the storefront and when she opened the door a little bell rang. Only a few people sat in the small area and it kind of felt like the calmness of letting out a long breath after holding it for a long time. That relief and calm silence of relaxation. There was an old couple sipping thier drinks and reading a newspaper and a few other people scattered around. She probably stuck out like a sore thumb in there, with her fancy job and clothes. But, no one seemed to glance up for more than a single second once she entered, she realized that they probably didn’t really care who came into this place as long as they got to keep the quiet environment. She liked it, though, it was definitely a good pick for a quiet workspace.

Lucille walked up to the counter slowly as she pulled out her wallet, then she looked at the menu that was above the counter, not really focusing on whoever was behind the bar. It was early in the morning, so she just wanted a coffee, she only got fancy drinks like Frappuccinos or Lattes later on in the day, if she was to ever visit a café later on. So, she picked up the right amount of change and looked towards the employee behind the counter, “I’ll just have a coffee,” she said, forming the beginnings of a friendly smile on her lips, only for it to fall completely when her gaze met with the man’s across the wooden counter. She felt like all of her breath had been knocked out of her lungs and she couldn’t really get a proper breath in. She just stood there, mouth slightly agape, as she stared at him. Alfonzo Valdez. The only difference was the large glasses, but she would recognize him anywhere, even if it had been decades since she last saw him. The thought alone made her wince slightly, so she pushed it away and look at him, feeling like all of her words had been taken away, except for one, “Hi,” she murmured breathlessly. She was caught in a daze and suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, she tuned back into reality and straightened up, closed her mouth and gazed at Alfonzo, waiting for him to say - or do - anything.

( sorry that this a little later than expected, I did a few things yesterday and didn’t have enough time/muse to come up with a post. but, I hope this is okay c: )

[lokean]

A L F O N Z O

_____________________

Washington Heights was alive at every hour, and 6 o’clock was no exception - it was a corner of foreigners, a lively collection of all kinds of origins, from Chilean to French to Nigerian. The taxis rushed through the busy streets, honking, and pedestrians engulfed the paint speckled concrete in front of the apartment complex. Senora Rosario, downstairs, was pruning plants on her little bitty patio and cursing at the bodega owner as he crossed her path on the way to open up shop. A woman named Celia dropped off newspapers to the complex and in the hallways of the four story complex, a drifter was sleeping in the third floor as his cat scoped out the building. Somewhere, a phone was ringing loudly, and one of the ground floor kids was playing gucci gang loud enough that it disturbed one of the fourth floor families, who went knocking next door, unaware. When the door swung open the parents of two were met with a tired, lean man speaking slurred and drowsy arabic as a black and tan yorkie spilled out into the hallway. The little yappy thing sniffed at their heels, shaking as it nudged the shoes of what were, for all intents and purposes, invaders in its territory. The music was no louder in his apartment than their own, it had roused him too, but what did he expect them to do about it? Apologies were give to the slam of a door, and then the couple were off to investigate. The arabian man went back to sleep, the little yorkie settling down to sleep with a long-haired brown and white chihuahua.

Alfonzo was so far from it all, despite the texts of compliant his roommate was sending.

The Cafe de la Sol wasn’t so alive at the 6 o’clock hour, and Alfie thought maybe that was why he loved it so much. He had worked at the quiet little coffee shop for years, and for the most part they kept the same regulars. Every now and then a college group would come in from the nearby campus, and then it felt rowdier than a frat party, but for the most part they were a niche cafe for those who just wanted to read and have a drink. Molly and Franklin, for example, were an elderly couple who came to have coffee and a danish and read the paper every day, making polite and happy conversation with Alf as he served them coffee and drank in their presence. They were kind people - like Charlie, who was dyslexic and used the books provided in the cafe to work on it in peace and quiet before she rushed off to her job at the local pet shop. The bodega owner had stopped in today too, and he and Alfie had a rushed conversation before he was off with his order. A few girls from the local salon had stopped in for frappes ad they played with their phones and gossipped, and in the back corner, in the only booth they had, a boy who lived in the loft of his father’s carpentry business strummed on a ukulele.

Bookshelves lined the walls of the quaint cafe and circular tables dotted the floor, which was tile and patterned like a china plate. He had had one, Alfie remembered, in 1501. It was given to him by his abuela, who passed in a harsh and angry winter alone. The ceiling was payne’s grey, an interesting choice by the owners, and glow in the dark stars had been hung by the night crew. The counter was where it began to look more like an industrialized cafe, but not so much that it ruined the look of the place as a whole. In english, the name was Cafe of the Sun, but it had the reputation of being “the come-as-you-are cafe.” Alfonzo didn’t like it as much. It certainly made sense to say that, but the Cafe of the Sun was so much prettier. It felt more like home. Like his beloved Chile.
The bell over the glass door rung and made Alfonzo glance up, but not enough to see more than the person’s shoes. He was drawing on a napkin as he welcomed the newcomer happily, one in spanish and then again in english as he came back to reality from his distracted state. Trench warfare had left him in a daze, this time around. He had nightmares every now and then, sure, but Karesh was just in the next room and happy to share a bed and the dogs were the perfect size to snuggle up with. Senator’s face had make an appearance on the white napkin’s, and Nagini the Yorkie’s, and though he dare not mention it, Lucille’s. They had been so close. Just one more day, and he would have one home. He would have married her like he’d promised. Now, it would be a godsend if he ever got to see her again.

Alfonzo had an order to take, though, so he pulled himself out of 1944 and and put his hands on the register, Just a coffee, she had said, and so he was off tapping a few buttons and pulling up a total. He’d picked up a cup and everything, letting her know just to insert the chip if it was card and he’d get a medium black coffee going, but on the quiet regreeting, Alfonzo looked up sharply. He had been ready to take a complaint, but when he looked up and saw her, the sturdy takeaway cup dropped from his hand. He couldn’t really say anything, standing and staring shocked at his lost love. How was she greeting him? Alfie couldn’t make anything but a disbelieving gasp come out. The cup made its way back up as he set the coffee machine going, but it wasn’t as though he ignored her. He just couldn’t think of anything to say, though not for lack of trying. Eventually, he opened his mouth again, giving her an embarrassed look before clearig his throat.

“Do you - dios mio, do you remember who I am?"

[paper planets]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ｌｕｃｉｌｌｅ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Lucille kept her eyes glued on Alfonzo, breathing it all in like he was her only source of oxygen. The truth was that he was many years ago, and lifetimes previous to that as well. Decades ago in 1944, France. She unknowingly let her mind wander back to that time, drift off into comforting embrace of oblivion and bittersweet memories, she danced as the nostalgic feeling rained down upon her. Alfonzo was a simple soldier, at least to most, to her he was her lost love, the one who had slipped right through her fingers too many times before. During the time of World War Two, he had showed up at her door because her family had gotten word of a few soldiers who would be taking shelter in their home as they fought for the Liberation of France. Her mother was happy and quite honoured to have soldiers, who were fighting for their country, in the house, but her father was more unsure. He didn’t want them bringing unwanted attention and danger, despite the fact that large houses all over had a few soldiers camping in them during the war. She vividly remembered the first time she saw Alfonzo. She had dressed up nice and stood up straight with her hair pinned up to make her look more sophisticated that she actually had been. All of that to welcome the soliders into their home. She had waited patiently, hands clutched behind her back, behind her parents as they opened the door to welcome the hard-working soldiers into their home. At first she only saw rugged men dressed in uniforms and standing upright, they looked like polished soldiers and she could easily imagine them fighting in battle. But, as they took their first steps into the house, she saw the solider behind them. Dark hair and tan skin, eyes bright and filled with life. At that moment, when she was just staring with wide eyes, she wondered if the universe or the God that her family prayed to at the church had always wished for them to be together. That’s why they got so many chances. Reborn every lifetime and somehow able to find each other each and every time. It all seemed like fate to her.

Now, it had been years since she had last seen her dear Alfonzo. Her amour, her lumière. Unfortunately, Lucy had stopped believing in fate when she couldn’t find him for seventy four years. She had lived a full life after the war, plagued by grief and, in that grief, she had left her home and said goodbye to France. She sought out the American dream in her early thirties and lived a full life fighting for woman’s rights and watching the world grow. When she had died and been reincarnated next she was still in America and now she lived with a career of her own. Over time in America she had lost her prominent French accent, but held tightly onto the language because that was the only reminder she had of her first home. She had never expected to see Alfonzo again, she had thought that the universe had run out of second chances. When it ended in 1944, that was their last chance and, if things had changed only slightly, it would’ve worked out. They had plans for after the war with secret, whispered conversation in the garden behind her house and their small, polite words with colourful and bright, meaningful glances - like sparkling fires held within their irises - when she invited the soldiers for a meal. Over time they talked many times and got close and, through that, new plans and ideas blossomed in their minds. She still remembered her excitement when he brought up the prospect of marriage and her fear when she thought of telling her parents that she wanted to run off with a soldier who they didn’t know.

Lucy heard the coffee machine start up and she blinked to refocus back into reality - back into this lifetime and this century - since she had unknowingly slipped into a conscious dream-land of her own thoughts. She looked up at Alfonzo as he gave her a somewhat sheepish look and she let a small, shy smile lift the corners of her lips. At his words she felt another wave of memories threaten to engulf her, but she pushed them back. Even if it was a foolish thought, she relished in the fact that his voice was unchanged. It filled her with warmth. Lucille nodded swiftly, realizing that the time between his words and her expected reply was dragging on for too long, “Of course,” she said softly, the café was so quiet and part of her wanted to keep this time-halting moment just between them, their little piece of forever trapped in a single moment. But, she tried to keep her hopes down. As her time away from Alfonzo had stretched on she began to wonder if their separation was for a reason, another sign from the vast, almighty universe. They had never worked out before, there had been close calls and complete misses, but nothing had ever worked. She had begun to wonder if they really were fated lovers. Her youthful, naive optimism had faded away and was replaced with more realistic views. True love had never proven itself to be true to her and, eventually, she had stopped missing Alfonzo, despite how hard it was and, even now, there were times when the world felt too heavy on her shoulders without him in her life. But, she persevered and she lived with it. So, she couldn’t let all of that - all of her guard - go crumbling down in an instant. Lucy cleared her throat and looked at the man behind the counter again, “Of course I remember, how could I ever forget?” she murmured, letting her eyes linger for a single moment - a small moment of awe and vulnerability - before her brown gaze flicked down to the counter. Though, her gaze was quick to return to Alfonzo, “Where have you been? After...” she trailed off slightly before she cleared her throat and continued, “after what happened, I didn’t see you..

[lokean]

A L F O N Z O

_____________________

Alfonzo frowned at the way Lucy became so suddenly, distant, having been on the same page as her only a moment before and now reeling to catch up with her. He was still remembering, living in the summer nights in the garden in France, but her question yanked him back to the present so fast it almost felt like being shot again, and he had to take a deep breath just to keep breathing at all. It was too strangled - Molly looked up from her paper but he waved her off with a smile. She squinted at him in suspicion before returning to the edition. He knew he'd been gone a long, long time - a full lifetime, no less - and that she had probably moved on from him to someone new who spent their time with her and gave her more happiness than some quiet soldier boy in grand old Paris who could make gingerbread from scratch. When he thought about that, it wasn't impressive, and the big port wine stain over his heart seemed to burn. Intentional or not - by choice or not - Alfonzo had left her alone for 74 years, and that was an awfully long time. Enough time to lose hope, though he hadn't. He was an outlier; Lucille had always had a better sense of self-preservation.
"I don't - I don't know how to explain where I've been. I only know closed my eyes in Paris and woke up in Puerto Varas. It doesn't make sense to me either - the longest pause I've had was 10 years, I don't remember anything greater. I've read everything I can find that isn't theoretical - Lucille, I've read pure gibberish from 1422 - and nothing ... clicks? Is that the phrase?" Alfie shook his head as he capped the coffee, writing Lucy's name on the cup and handing it across the counter to her. Something made him want to avoid touching, which shocked him. Alfonzo never avoided her. If anything, he was always ready to immediately hang out with her, it was always a kind of 'i'll call you when i'm off work' situation, but this was different and Alfonzo didn't like it one bit. When it was out of his hand he took his glasses off, cleaning them on the muted green shirt he'd picked that morning when his world hadn't just changed. He'd developed a squint when he wasn't wearing them, a look that made the jovial man look so unintentionally melancholy, but good lord if he didn't feel it. Quite frankly, there was nothing worse than loving someone for literal lifetimes and suddenly coming to an abrupt halt. Was she angry, or was she just upset? Did she hate him? He felt way too tense, for just reuniting. "I'm not sure if you're angry," he admitted, "or if you're more or less than that, but I never, never intended to hurt you in any way, Lucille, I hope you know that. I never intended to be gone and leave you alone." Across the room, someone coughed, and he offered a reflexive 'Salud!' before finding somewhere, anywhere other that her to look.
The destination the hazel gaze found was the blue and white tiles - he found Pamplona in them, Madrid, Cartagena, Santiago de Compostela. He found being a bullfighter in the curve of a broad flower, the back of his neck excessively sunburned and adrenaline spurring his tired bones on the baked clay of the coliseum as the massive red-and-white-patched bull charged toward him for the tenth time to his own voice, much older, shouting, "Torro! Oye, aqui, torro!" He found the intricate calaveritas and the dancing women, the performing men of a distant Dia de Los Muertos engulfing him in swathes of black and yellow and trumpet and guitar and fire as the smattering of speckles worn into the tile from use jumped out at him like the makeup of the little sugar skulls. Mostly, though, Alfonzo remembered being Alfonzo de La Vega-Pamplona, a young and stupid son of nobility, sneaking out of Spain with a few of his friends to go and see beautiful France in 1882. He remembered being a teenager, desperate to have some fun before court politics consumed him whole and alive, stopping dead in his tracks because the one person he'd hoped to run into the most had begun to redirect the rowdy pack of boys. He'd started to hide his face behind wildly curling dark hair before he'd realized it was Lucy, peeking at her between the strands with a wild invitation to their adventure and a broad, toothy smile. The four other spaniards had shrugged her off jovially, but Alfonzo had stayed, waiting for Lucille to say something - sort of like now, he supposed, sort of like sort of like 1944, but better. Before war had rocked him to sleep to the tune of bombs and bullets. Somewhere far away, debris whizzed by Alfonzo's ear outside of the Meyers' home and the sun rose in Paris. He understood that this could be the end of everything.

[paper planets]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ｌｕｃｉｌｌｅ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The frown on Alfonzo’s face told Lucille everything. Her face must’ve given away her conflicting emotions and that was confusing him. She didn’t blame him, even she was confusing herself. She wasn’t sure about him, but she knew that she was always able to read his emotions like a book. Perhaps it was from all the years of knowing him, no matter what else changed, inside they were always the same, even after so many lifetimes in many different lifestyles. There had been times in the 1600s when he was a simple servant boy and she, a princess with her parents searching for a man for her to be married to. They had bumped into each other within the walls of the castle, his clothes ragged and dirty, her dress long and pristine. Of course, it hadn’t worked out. She had gotten married despite her best efforts and her begging wishes filled with tears to her parents and, before she knew it, she had moved away, leaving Alfonzo behind where he did who knows what. She had never realized it before, but they had never really spoken about previous mistakes made in past lifetimes once they met again in the next life and perhaps that showed their wholesome hope for the future and how they chose to not linger in the past, but, instead, focus on what was to come.

Lucy lifted her gaze, feeling like she had somehow shrunk down into her clothing to try and become invisible. As Alfonzo spoke, giving her his explanation of what he had actually been up to since 1944. She dropped her gaze after his words left his mouth, “Yeah.. We’ve just been in different places, I moved to America and you.. didn’t,” she said, finding herself struggling with her words each time she even thought of speaking of how and when Alfonzo had died. She remembered her fear. She was scared after he died that maybe he’d never come back and that was yet another reason why it was so hard to say it aloud. Plus, with a swift glance around her at the people in the small café, she realized that she definitely didn’t want anyone overhearing this conversation since it would seem extremely odd to most. Lucille looked back towards the man behind the counter just as he capped her coffee and handed it over to her across the low counter. She grabbed the warm cub in both hands and let the warmth flood through her fingertips, she didn’t take a drink, though, she just kept her gaze lingering on Alfonzo. She pondered if maybe he thought that she was lingering in the past seventy four years and still, to this day, was upset, but she wasn’t. Her speculation proved to be true when he spoke again, this time outright asking if she was angry or upset with him. Truthfully, she wasn’t upset, how could she be? It wasn’t either of their faults if their chances had run out. She didn’t really know what she was feeling, but everything was happening so suddenly and this rush of emotions and memories she got every time their eyes met was surreal. She had been avoiding those bursting memories for years, it was strange to suddenly come face to face with them again after such a long time. Lucille shook her head and shut her eyes tightly, fighting through the constant tidal waves of distant memories that had suddenly become some clear and vibrant in her mind that crashed against her brain and triggered even more memories within her, “I’m not mad, I can’t blame you at all. That’s just completely unfair and I know you would never blame me if our roles were switched. I just — ” she broke off suddenly when someone across the room coughed and Alfonzo called across a quick ‘Salud!’ to them. She looked off to the side, ignoring the fact that both of them seemed to be purposefully not meeting the other’s gaze, “So much has changed since the war,” she whispered, “I don’t really know what to think anymore, I just stopped thinking about all of it and continued on as I would,” she said, though she still felt like her words were never enough and they didn’t properly portray how she felt. But, they had to do for now.

Lucy could tell by the way that Alfonzo was looking at her that he wanted something. A reaction, a word - or perhaps two of hope and of the connection that seemed to live on through decades. Deep within her soul she wanted so badly for this to finally work, she even began to wonder if maybe this lifetime it - their love - would actually work out, but only if she didn’t stand in the way of it’s course. But, she was quick to shove that thought aside. She was aware that she had changed since 1944, that she was a different person now, but her heart couldn’t remain unchanged for too long. She also knew that she wasn’t mad, she wasn’t mad at Alfonzo or mad at the years in between. At the beginning, she was sad, then she moved to America and distracted her mind with the feminist movement. She did admit that there was a moment where she was mad, but, it didn’t last. In fact, it wasn’t just Alfonzo who had caused this unsureness with love. In America there were men who swooned for her. Under the bright lights, listening to live music, she’d met others. Classy men who wore suits, others who sang in soft, mesmerizing voices. But, they never lasted, they were charmers and jumped from woman to woman. She cursed herself for falling for their tricks. After that was when she had been mad with Alfonzo and any other man who had left her heart to be lonely. Perhaps the other men had even wavered her vision of Alfonzo because she knew that he wasn’t like them. He was genuine and kind. But, she was mad that her heart was so tied to him that she feared she’d be alone forever if he didn’t return to her. She was mad that no kind of love seemed to ever work out for her. She began to fear if love would ever work out for her. In the end she just let it go. The prospect of love seemed out of reach so she focused on her career and hoped that her dear Alfonzo was finding love and light wherever he was.

Right now, it seemed a little to convenient to lose track of time. To forget those years and fall right back into step like they had always done. But, she wanted to... Oh, how she wanted to. It was like a burning fire within her. Though, she definitely did not want to spend time trying only for it to fail all over again. But, nonetheless, humans were always known to be a foolish species who tended to repeat mistakes made in the past. Hoping one day they wouldn’t turn out to be mistakes. So, despite her fears and her doubts she sucked in a deep breath and looked up at Alfonzo, “Eventually, I had stopped believing in whatever coincidental fate that had always lined up our paths. Times have changed, now. But...” she paused, feeling like her next words were about I contradict everything she had said or feeling like her voice may betray her and show that small amount of hope she still held, yet never dared to let show though, “We’re both here now and maybe we have some catching up to do that isn’t over the counter of a small café,” she offered, letting the slightest of smiles fall upon her face before she continued, “I’ll probably be here for a while, maybe you could catch me on your break?” she asked softly and there it was. The smallest glimmer of hope in her small voice.

( sorry for the wait! c: )

[lokean]

A L F O N Z O

_____________________

Alfonzo looked up at the invitation to catch up, biting his lip; she wasn’t angry. The word coincidental stung a little bit, like maybe she thought it was time to stop trying to work. Times had changed. Oh. His frown didn’t change, still sort of sorrowfully optimistic, but he nodded quickly. Maybe she just wanted to be friends, and that was okay. Alfonzo could do friends, if that was all Lucille wanted. As long as it meant they were okay at the end of the day. “I’m actually - I’m filling in for Johanna until she can get here today, so when she does I have to go and get my dog from the apartment, but I’ll come back. You would like him, he’s a good boy.” There he was for just a moment, the old Alfonzo - almost. He still seemed just a touch sad, and though hiding it was futile, he tried; Lucille could read him like a book, cover to cover, but maybe if he tried he could stuff it into his teddy bear heart like some backward build-a-bear. “My roommate,” he continued, trying to bring down the gravity of the situation, “not so much. I want to say he grows on you but it’s more of a benign tumor sort of thing.” At his own analogy, the barista almost winced. It felt mean and he wanted to take it back, but he knew Karesh would laugh, so it was okay, maybe.
“It’s good for working, though. As long as you don’t mind Benito,” Alfie motioned to the strumming boy, “but he plays well. You oughta request something.” He took that as a chance to part from the conversation, lighting up when a tallish, older woman stepped in the door with a baby on her hip. He gave them a jovial spanish greeting and started asking if the woman wanted her usual, at which point she started firing back that he knew how she took it and the two began bickering playfully as he made the iced coffee. The truth, whether he wanted to admit it or not was that Alfonzo had only ever fallen in love with one other person, and he was far, far away in Puerto Varas. He had probably forgotten about Alfie, if he really stopped to think about it, it had been ten or eleven years since they’d last seen each other. Lucille was right in saying that they had been apart a long time, but where she’d met other men, Alfie had spent his time falling in love with those who came and went from the cafe and the little apartment complex and this side of the bridge. Washington Heights wasn’t a conventionally beautiful city, a little island of misfit toys that every so often lost power in the part he lived in, but he was so terribly enamoured by the area. He’d met Karesh here, and Senator, and Senator had brought them Nagini, and then he’d met all these beautiful people and learned their names and their mannerisms and their lives and to them, to beautiful old them, he was just the guy who made their coffee as they flipped the lights and began their day. There was something so charming about it, especially following being the soldier with eyes on him always. He got to watch this time, he got to learn.

Johanna got in a good two hours later, her tightly curling hair wet from something she would surely text him to explain later, and she thanked Alfonzo happily as she bagged a sandwich to send him on his way with. She liked to do that, when someone held up her shift, and he couldn’t fathom why; teenagers didn’t usually do that kind of thing in his experience, and he figured everyone in the Heights needed what they made anyway. Alfie had tried to tell her it was really nothing, but she’d insisted, and he’d finally accepted the turkey on rye with an embarrassed thank you and ordered a plain black coffee. Johanna rang him up quickly and with that he was slipping back into the crew room to grab a black backpack - mostly full of fireworks and change and a sharpie or two - before heading out. As he passed Lucy, he set the cup down on the table. Written in a cursive scrawl was the man’s phone number, in case he didn’t make it back on time, and a promise that he and the Senator would be on their merry way ASAP. A little doodle of the dog sat beside its name and wagged its inked tail at her in what would probably be a very enthusiastic fashion. He had sort of slowed as he’d headed out the door, in case she had anything to say. Hoping she had something to say.






(life sinks its claws in, sometimes!!! )

[paper planets]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ [ ｌｕｃｉｌｌｅ ] ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Lucille felt a breath of relief leave her system - one that she didn’t know she had been holding in - once Alfonzo seemed to agree to catch up with her. Though, she expected, from his explanation, that she may be waiting a while until he was off work. But, she couldn’t complain. She had work to do anyways, so she didn’t mind one bit. She smiled once the man mentioned his dog, she loved animals and often wished that her apartment allowed pets. But, they didn’t. As Alfonzo continued to speak of his roommate, Lucy began to get a better grasp on what his life was like nowadays and she felt herself getting more comfortable. She sipped at her coffee, nodding along to his words. It seemed as if he lived a fairly simple life, a comfortable, humble life with many friendly people in it and many good memories. Though, that realization brought on another wave of doubt. Even now, with more and more equality rising up around them in the world, their lives were so different. She had a professional job with serious twists and turns, she was busy and was always working. Her smile faltered for a single moment as she wondered how exactly she was expecting this to work, but she was quick to push the negative thoughts away and focused on Alfonzo.

The man behind the counter had finished speaking and the dark-haired girl nodded, “I’ll make sure to,” she murmured quickly. Though, it seemed as if their conversation had drawn to a close. A woman entered the store, carrying a baby and Alfonzo turned his attention towards her. Lucy sucked in a deep breath and then turned quickly on her heel. She made her way over to a small table by the front windows and sat down. She set her coffee cup down and then pulled her sketchbook out of her bag followed by a small case of pencils. She flipped to her most recent project - a beautifully flowing dress that she hoped to make it have a good functionality - and began touching up on some details. Scratching in notes here and there and working on the sketches until they were crafted to perfection. Eventually her mind was completely absorbed into her work and she embraced the tranquility of not having racing thoughts going through her brain as she worked. Sometimes she’d be stressed while trying to work and her sketches would come out terrible. But, now, she was so focused that she barely even touched her coffee.

A couple hours seemed to go by and, in that time, Lucille had finished a fully coloured drawing of the dress. Though, she was her greatest critique and would probably redraw it many more times before she was happy and submitted her idea. Now, though, a girl walked through the door and rushed behind the counter, she heard Alfonzo talking to her and assumed that was who he was covering for. She had since closed up her sketchbook and was sipping at her coffee, one which she had replaced when her other had got cold. She stared out the window at the street before her. She didn’t want to just sit there and overthink her sketches, so she was just relaxing, the atmosphere in this little coffee shop made it way to do so. It was interesting to just sit there and watch the passerby’s that walked down the street and see who chose to enter the little coffee shop. She looked up from her view when she heard footsteps heading towards her table. Though, it was truly the coffee cup that was put on the table that made her lift her brown gaze from the window. Alfonzo walked towards the door, but then stood there, like he was being held back by some invisible force. She looked at the coffee cup and saw a number scrawled across the cup and she lifted her eyes again to meet Alfonzo’s. A part of her wanted to stand up and go along with him while he went to pick up his dog, but she didn’t exactly want to invite herself to his home. She decided to just wait until he returned. Lucy looked at him and she was quick to realize that he wanted her to say something. So, she mustered up a few simple words to show him that she still wanted to talk once he returned, “I’ll see you soon,” she said, though her eyebrows lifted slightly, as if she was asking it as a question too, just to make sure he still wanted to return and talk to her.